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Primitive Body

Did I dream this cave or rhythms
my body sensed in shadows?
My four feet danced along a ring of fire,
a circle burning like the hollow of lips
around a dark mouth. Men were with me
drumming skins. Women whipped
their hair to a silent pulse.

I woke to morning, a reservoir for blood,
hungry to devour what I have lost.

Taught from first breath to dress
in masks of false desire, life became
bare toothed.  I grew into my body
as though it were a strange filament,
thin and highly spun.

My womb stayed walnut size.
an empty thumb print, a perfect zero
hidden too deep for any dream to find.

Now I'm become the older, hostile sister,
a wolf mother searching for her young,
hunted as in a fairy tale.  My sleek coat
threaded by moonlight.

Now, I rouse, waking from circling dances
around a young sun, heat a blessing in my arms.
My unborn behind me.  My silver hair spinning
across tracks of my primitive body.

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